How's Your Baby Cake
by Tramontana
Summary: Hilarity ensues on B.A.'s birthday due to a "culinary faux pas."  Friendly-type humor one-shot.  K   to be safe for a bit o' swearing.  Please read and enjoy!


A/N: Hilarity ensues on B.A.'s birthday.

Disclaimer: I don't own The A-Team, etc.

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"Uh, Hannibal?" Face's voice reached the colonel's ears as he peered into the fridge. A crinkle of paper filled the gap of Face's pause.

"Yees?" Hannibal prompted, reaching behind a tub of butter to retrieve a beer. "What is it?"

"Is this the receipt for BA's cake?"

Hannibal turned as he shut the refrigerator door, wondering if the kid was obsessing over expenditures even on this particular occasion.

"It's his birthday, Face. Stop being an accountant for one night, ok?"

"No, it's not that," the younger man answered vaguely, still trying to make out part of whatever it was on the receipt that had him so interested. "You're _sure_ this is a receipt for today's cake?"

"'Today's cake'?" Hannibal echoed, twisting the cap off his bottle through the cuff of his jacket. "I'm not exactly a frequent cake buyer, Lieutenant. Is there a point to this line of questioning?"

"It's just that somehow I can't imagine you ordering a strawberry cake with pink and white icing that reads 'It's a Girl!' for BA." He held the receipt up for inspection.

Hannibal choked on his drink. Half a moment later, BA's not-so-dulcet tones filtered in from the living room.

"'It's a _Girl_?' What _is_ this? _Hannibal!_"

Face, realizing he was still holding the receipt, flung it toward the counter like it was on fire, so as to sever any association with what the team would later dub "The Cake Incident." Hannibal took a very long pull off the beer. "Well, this should be interesting…" he finally seemed to register the beer's aftertaste, grimacing. "We are _not_ letting Murdock by the beer next time."

"What? I like it!" Face objected, perhaps a touch too dramatically

"You don't like it. You're just sticking up for Murdock. You've been holding that bottle for ten minutes and I haven't seen you take a single-"

"HANNIBAL!"

"That sounded close," Face said ominously, as though they were hiding from a dinosaur. Hannibal shushed him with a sharp wave of one hand.

"Quiet. I've gotta get my game face on." Despite the instruction, Hannibal let out a chuckle he could not repress, imaging BA's expression upon seeing the cake. He took a deep breath and let it out, shedding any appearance of mirth. Then he quickly drained the rest of the beer, blanched again at the taste, and set the bottle forcefully on the counter for effect as BA burst into the room.

"What the _hell_, Hannibal?"

The colonel's tone was completely steady and authoritative when he spoke again. "Is there a problem, Sergeant? I didn't see 'Violate local noise ordinance' on the agenda for your birthday bash."

"I ain't eatin' no pink how's-your-baby cake! 'Specially not on my birthday, fool!"

Face snorted and tried to affect it into a cough. Hannibal was thankful when Murdock came marching into the kitchen, because there was no way he was responding to any of that while keeping a straight face.

"Now, now, BA, don't be so emotional!" the pilot chided, putting an arm around the big man's shoulders. "After all," he went on, pausing as if to highlight the importance of what was to follow, "you have to think about the baby!"

Hannibal busted out laughing. Murdock patted B.A.'s stomach. "Don't worry, B.A. Jr, Uncle Murdock's lookin' out for ya!"

B.A. snarled, violently shrugging Murdock's arm off his shoulders and shoving him into Hannibal, which only made both parties in the collision laugh harder as they regained their balance. Face's attempt at quiet non-participation was wholly suspicious and quickly drew B.A.'s angry gaze. The conman's blue-green eyes widened a fraction.

"_He_ bought the cake!" Face stammered, pointing. "I had nothing to do with it! Anyway, I'm sure it was just a mix up, B.A.-" His eyes darted sideways, looking for back up from Murdock and Hannibal, who appeared to have gotten a hold of themselves for the moment but were taking no part in Face's defense.

"That's what you tried to tell me last year when you set me up on that date, fool! 'Woman o'my dreams,' you told me, and I bought into yo' jibba jabba. You forgot to mention that she wasn't no woman!"

Hannibal lost it again, cackling unabashedly. Murdock followed suit, finding the colonel's abnormally unreserved laughter contagious.

"He's got a point, Faceguy…" the pilot spoke.

"Let's not drudge up old history, shall we? The point is I did not buy that cake!" The conman continued to plead his case. "Do you think I'd ever commit such a culinary faux pas as _not_ checking the accuracy of my cake order?"

Hannibal scrunched his eyes at the elaborate declaration. "Face, seriously, are you a woman?"

"Cuz B.A.'s date wasn't—" Murdock reminded them.

"Hey, just because I happen to have a little taste—"

"You're getting' a poundin', crazy man!"

Murdock ducked a swing. "Calm down, B.A., you don't wanna overexert yourself, not in your condition—aarghh! Hann-i-ahcckkhh-"

"I _know_ you have little taste, Lieutenant, that's my point—B.A., let the man breathe, he's supposed to cook us dinner tonight-"

"Wait, what? That's not what I said and you know it!" Face objected.

B.A. suddenly stormed out of the kitchen amidst some theatrical gasping from Murdock. "I'm…ALIVE! It's a MIRACLE!"

"Now you've done it," Hannibal said, directing the words at Face. "You just _had_ to upset B.A. on his birthday."

"_You_ bought the damn cake, Hannibal!" Face reiterated loudly.

"Both of you should be ashamed of yourself," Murdock cut in. "Right when he's feeling all sensitive and vulnerable and cravin' pickles and ice cream-"

B.A. burst back into the kitchen at that moment with said cake, which was out of its box now. The door was still swinging shut behind him when he pulled back and hurled it right at Murdock. Years of reflexes honed by dodging Baracan assaults sprung him into a duck. The cake projectile completed its magnificent arc by whacking a totally unprepared Hannibal upside the head. Face and Murdock simultaneously winced at the moment of impact, and Hannibal, leaning on the counter with one leg bent and crossed over the other's ankle, was startled just enough to lose his balance and flail his way to the floor.

The three men still standing stared briefly at Hannibal and then each other, silent for one shocked, cricket-chirp of a moment before the kitchen exploded with laughter again. Face could hardly _breathe_ for laughing, and leaning heavily on the counter, he only needed to take another glance at Hannibal's cake-covered face when the effect started to die down. B.A. had the good grace to offer a sheepish apology. Murdock was cracking up at Face as much as the cake toss, especially when Hannibal grabbed a handful of the now pink _glop_ from where he was still sprawled on the kitchen floor and landed it right between the conman's eyes. It helped that the noise Face made in response was decidedly womanish.

Their laughter carried on well into the night, amidst cake clean-up, dinner, dessert (thanks to a second bakery run that recovered the "real" cake), a Ninentdo Duck-Hunt marathon during which B.A. threatened to "kill that damn fool of a dog," and a slightly excessive amount of odd-tasting beer.

That night, as B.A. reflected on the day's events, he decided that it was one of the best birthdays he'd had in a very long while.

Especially because it didn't involve any transvestites.

_~FIN~_

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Hahaha, I had so much fun writing this. I've also realized I should give cred to AlyshebaFan1, whose Old Spice Lesbian line (see ch 6 of the marvelous "Fevers of Unknown Origin") may have somewhat inspired B.A.'s blind date fiasco comment. Sometimes I feed off what I read...and that story is fabulous! :) Hope you all enjoyed. R/R if you get a chance~


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